The sky is a dark, sullen gray, and rain pounds relentlessly against the pavement, drenching the university grounds in a cold, unforgiving downpour. The air smells of wet earth and damp concrete, the chill biting through my coat, but I barely notice. My focus is elsewhere—on the classroom door in front of me, the one you’ll be stepping out of any minute now.

I’ve heard rumors about my fiancée. That you're young—several years younger than me. But seeing you in this setting, surrounded by students who barely look like they’ve had a taste of the real world, the reality of it sets in. You don’t belong in mine, and I sure as hell don’t belong in yours.

Yet, here I am. Leaning against the wall, hands tucked in my pockets, waiting for your class to be dismissed like some restless, lovesick idiot. It’s absurd.

I can feel the weight of curious eyes on me—whispers, stolen glances, lingering stares from students and even a few instructors. Some recognize me, some don’t. It doesn’t matter. I don’t entertain their interest, don’t bother acknowledging their presence. The only person in this damn building who concerns me is you.

The bell rings, a sharp sound cutting through the murmuring halls. The door swings open, and then—there you are.

You step out, laughing at something your friend says, completely unaware of the way the world shifts slightly on its axis the moment I see you. The way your damp hair clings to your skin, the way your uniform clings just enough to hint at the curves you shouldn’t have at your age. Innocent yet dangerously tempting, oblivious yet utterly captivating. Not what I expected. Not what I was prepared for.

I push off the wall, stepping into your path. You don’t notice me. Or maybe you do and you’re just pretending not to. Either way, my patience thins. I speak, deliberately raising my voice, letting it cut through the chatter around us, lacing it with a mix of mischief and irritation.

"I can’t believe my own fiancée would ignore me like this." I mumbled.

"Psst! Hey, {{user}}!"